“V” is for Vendetta

Since last year’s finals, the W’s have added (ahem) another superstar. Tilts the table in obvious and predictable ways. But one thing it doesn’t change is this…

The Cavs would still like to turn these Finals into a 2 x 2 tournament if they can.

They might well lose even then, but they’d happily take those chances far over and against playing 5 x 5 (as a team and team-system) against the W’s as a team.

And while that’s just one of the many lessons the W’s should’ve learned from last year, maybe it’s the most important one.

Pre-set “matchups”are almost passé now.

The W’s have revolutionized NBA team defense. And they began doing so a long time ago. Even before Steve Kerr arrived—and even before Draymond Green started—the W’s could effortlessly switch 2-3-4 in their rotation whenever Green (or Barnes or Iguodala) were in the lineup at what used to be called “stretch-4.”

And then in the past 3 years, as Steph’s defense picked up (let alone when Livingston subbed for him)—and whenever the W’s went to their “small” lineup—the W’s have literally been able to switch 1–5 defensively.

And though no other team in the league has the W’s overall defensive personnel, the great advantage of being able to freely switch screens has inflected the league as a whole.

And so now it’s much less a matter of which (one) Warrior, say, will “match-up” one-on-one against someone like Lebron James than it’s a matter of the fleet of versatile switching defenders that every team wants (and needs) to have against its opponents’ best scorers.

However…

There’s a buried lesson in Game 1 of the W’s/Spurs series this year that shouldn’t be lost.

While everyone was focused on endless replays of Zaza’s weird two-step close-out that ended Kawhi’s playoffs (and the Spurs’ remote chances), people took their eyes off Pop’s offensive strategy that had given the Spurs such a dramatic chance to win Game 1.

Knowing that not even the well-tuned Spurs could score enough against the W’s—and thus match the W’s more talented and dynamic 5-man offensive system (and especially with the Spurs’ one “downhill” point guard already out), Popovich played the first 2 1/2 quarters of Game 1 on a steady diet of high screens by his 5-man for Kawhi Leonard to initiate offense.

The point wasn’t necessarily for Kawhi to score at once himself (although he did plenty of that, too). The point was to immediately scrape off Kawhi’s initial “match-up” and leave the always-ready-to-switch W’s with Zaza or JaVale or West on Kawhi. That way the W’s defense couldn’t control the point of attack. And instead of playing against the W’s winged-fleet of vaunted switching defenders, Kawhi initiated virtually every Spurs’ offensive possession by running downhill into the teeth of the W’s defense and then either scoring himself or creating open shots for his less creative teammates. Hell, Kawhi as point guard against a W’s center even made LaMarcus Aldridge look like a dependable playoff scorer.

This is just one of the lesser reasons we should regret that Kawhi couldn’t finish Game 1 or the series. Because had he been able to continue to play, it would’ve been instructive to see what adjustments the W’s would’ve inevitably needed to make against the Spurs’ high 5-man screen for Kawhi.

I point this out now for obvious reasons.

The Cavs by nature begin most of their half-court possessions with Tristan Thompson setting high-screens for either Lebron James or Kyrie Irving.

And Lebron James and Kyrie Irving are two of the best downhill racers in the NBA off that initial high-screen.

You can think of potential W’s antidotes yourself. Each, however, comes with a price to pay. One of the foremost “adjustments” to watch in this series will be how the W’s choose to play the high-screen for James and Irving. (And quite likely they won’t play the high-screen for James and for Irving exactly the same way.)

Tristan Thompson

It’s not that Tristan Thompson is some particularly notable screen-and-roll scorer. It’s that he’s a nightmare to keep off the offensive glass in the best of circumstances. And then when he’s setting a high-screen and you go all-frantic in trying to contain James or Irving, that leaves Thompson freewheeling on a personal rampage back to his favorite lair—the offensive glass. He has all the offensive rebounding qualities you love if he plays for you and hate if you play against. He’s strong. He’s relentlessly active. He thinks every rebound belongs to him and that you’re trying to steal his lunch money if you beg to differ. He isn’t cowed by Draymond.

One of the “tells” when the W’s find themselves (rarely) in trouble is when they start getting beaten badly on the offensive glass. Not only does opponent offensive rebounding lead to more opponent scores, it also slows the W’s tempo and cuts into the “possession-margin” that the W’s are always looking to win.

And tempo—it should go without saying—is critical in this series.

This is one of the potential advantages the Cavs could have: the offensive rebounding of their frontcourt of Thompson, Love, and James.

Bully-ball

Of course, last year the Cavs didn’t run a particularly inordinate string of 5-man screens for James. They ran an inordinate number of whoever-Steph-is-guarding screens for James.

James was on a personal (and physical) vendetta against Steph last year—and in particular against Steph’s back-to-back MVP’s and against Steph’s unique unanimous MVP.

He hunted and forearm-shivvied Steph on cuts off-the-ball every chance he had. And the point of drawing Steph onto him as a defender was (understandably) to maximize James’ physical strength advantage.

Steph is much healthier now. And Durant’s now very seriously in the hunt to make you pay a very high price indeed for trying to single out Steph to head-hunt.

Still it’s not to the Cavs’ advantage to try to run James into the fleet of W’s athletic switching defenders. Much more logical for them to set out to breach the wall elsewhere.

Klay / Kyrie

Even though initial pre-set “match-ups” are soon scraped off in the exigencies of NBA screening and switching-screens, the relative impacts of Klay’s play and Kyrie’s (including vis-a-vis one another) will be another crucial motif to track.

We’ve all noted Klay’s playoff shooting/scoring decline. And all applauded the fact that his shooting/scoring decline hasn’t bled into his defensive focus.

To my mind (and I’d say rather objectively), Klay is perhaps the most dogged of point-guard defenders in the league. He doesn’t die on on-ball screens. And his length and athleticism help him fight back into plays that are literally beyond the reach of many other point-guard defenders. He gets down into his stance and presses you into corners. And on-ball doggedness is another area is which tunnel-vision helps him.

And on the other end, so long as Irving and Love are on the floor—even though both individually are battling more defensively and will battle even more in the Finals—the overall integrity of the Cavs’ defense can’t hold mud against the W’s. Sooner or later Irving and Love will find themselves guarding Durant. Sooner or later Irving will find himself hoping to hide against Klay. And Klay won’t even need to hit nearly every 3 he sees. He’ll just need to walk Kyrie down to the block and exact as much or more punishment against Irving than Irving is able to exact against the W’s.

If/when Klay’s offense returns, this series is over. And over early.

“V” is for Vendetta.

Last year, against James’ public declamations and against his physical cheapshots, a hobbled-Steph too often groped for personal one-on-one paybacks via those theatrical off-balance 3’s and other magic-tricks that seem his personal purview.

And we all saw how Draymond’s emotionally reactive “standing-up” to James ended.

And what can be lost (but what occurred to some of us as soon as he was signed) was the longstanding (pre-Steph MVP’s) personal competition between Durant and James as to which of the two was the best player on the planet. Durant had made no bones about the fact of how tired he’d become of finishing “second.”

And that’s exactly the rub now.

Will the W’s allow the vendetta to become personal again?

I doubt it.

Steph has both deferred to KD and then understood that he needs—for the team’s sake—to reclaim his own identity. Draymond hasn’t been passive nor passively minding his P’s and Q’s for appearance’s sake. His unerring focus to-date (like his shot selection) is upon a championship. And an untold story about Kevin Durant is how unaffectedly behind-the-scenes he’s been supporting younger un-ballyooed teammates like Ian Clark and Patrick McCaw and others—and how that example has helped Draymond’s own leadership grow.

If the 2017 NBA finals devolve into a personal competition in will-to-power, the Cavs stand a chance.

But if the series develops as a continuing organic study in the development of teamwork, there will be only one team standing.